


Brushes of a Dancer

by starinjun (blackeu)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 08:21:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20503826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackeu/pseuds/starinjun
Summary: Where Jaemin, the supposed dance prodigy, meets Renjun, the art-lover with paint streaks on his hair and stars in his eyes, and their worlds clashed.





	Brushes of a Dancer

**Author's Note:**

> My first writing after almost 7 years?? I'm sorry if this doesn't really makes sense but I just can't get this out of my head so here it is!

Play. Step. Stop. Repeat.

Na Jaemin had always been known as _that_ dance prodigy since he was a child. The memories of how it all started was like a blur; on how his parents started sending him into dance classes, and later on competition after competition.

Being labelled as a _prodigy_ was so foreign to him, since he knew he was nothing sort of that label. His sweat and tears, and endless practices which was never shown to others had probably contributed to all of his winnings, but nobody ever really saw this. He was just _that_ dance prodigy, someone who others probably thought was good since birth, someone who did not need much practices.

Dance was something that he enjoyed though; the activity itself helped him to release his stress and for him to have a clearer mind. And yet, been forced to practically breathe one of his favourite things for a living was taking a toll on him, was taking a toll on his beliefs about whether he was doing it because of himself, or just to satisfy his parents.

He kept wondering whether it was really worth it, being in the spotlight while wanting to cower away from it at the same time, just to make his parents happy. Because at the end, contrary to people’s beliefs, he never even wanted to be in the spotlight like this. And as much he loved being on the stage, being able to share his emotions and feelings to others, he also despised it at the same time.

“Well done, Jaemin! As expected of our star prodigy. You’re done for today. Now go and take some rest. Keep up the good work, alright?”

_ Star prodigy_. ‘Yeah, right’, Jaemin scoffed in his mind.

His dance instructor’s words were replied with a small smile and a nod, before Jaemin went to get his things, preparing to go back. Discarding all his troubled thoughts aside, he tried to enjoy the peaceful evening, especially with the lights that filtered in at all the rights places, making their faculty’s building looking like something that came out straight from a fairy tale.

‘It’s funny how fairy tale is a thing, until we grow older and realized that it is indeed, just a tale, and there’s nothing like a happily-ever-after’, he thought to himself.

Fairy tales in itself was something that Jaemin could not comprehend, on why children were supposed to believe they would be able to go through life convinced that at the end they would get their own happiness, while being oblivious to the struggles that would come their ways.

Because for those who believed in fairy tales, there were supposed to be otherworldly beings – fairy godmothers, pixies, talking animals, and others – that would help them in their journey, and that they would never be alone with their struggles.

“Bullshit,” he muttered out softly.

“Uh, what?” the voice startled Jaemin out of his thoughts, finally realizing that there was someone else with him – another boy a little bit smaller than him ¬– looking as scandalous as ever, after hearing him cursing out of nowhere. The boy, he noted, had streaks of dried paint along his hair, something that somehow made him seemed livelier, even if the colour was a mix of something dark, and even when he was doing nothing.

“Oh. It was nothing, sorry about that,” he said, before excusing himself in a hurry. At that moment, Jaemin did not realize that this short meeting with the random boy would change his view about life in a 180 degree way.

Jaemin’s days were pretty much the same after that, a dreaded routine of class and practices, as well as his troubling thoughts of whether he was doing the right thing in his life. The only thing different was the sudden realization that the boy from before was now starting to appear in his sight more frequently, even though he never noticed him before.

He always had that streaks of dried paint in his hair, sometimes it was a distinct colour; blue, yellow, pink, grey respectively, and sometimes it was a mix of everything, as if the paint itself was a part of him, which also made him more noticeable and quite hard to ignore. It was as if something was pulling Jaemin to the boy, in a magnetizing kind of way, but not enough for him to forget about his inner turmoil.

His practices’ quality, if he was being honest to himself, was deteriorating. Some routines that usually took him only one or two hours to master, was now doubled the time. He could feel other people’s eyes scrutinizing his every steps, waiting for him to make another mistake, and it was not making it better at all.

Even his dance instructor’s words of motivation could not soothe him, for he knew it was his inner turmoil finally showing itself that was effecting him like this. And all he could do was trying his best, while asking himself again and again whether whatever he was doing was worth it, or that he should just stop dancing at all, and pursue something else instead, for his favourite thing in the world was also becoming his main source of stress.

It was a few days after, when Jaemin accidentally found the boy – Renjun, if he recalled back to his friends calling him before – in the art room on his way from practise, that he realized perhaps all those stories about princes and princesses from fairy tales were not really that farfetched.

Sitting in the room, with a canvas in front of him and stars in his eyes, using his brushes in a way that he could only be able to when he was dancing, he reminded him of a prince that he never met. He could see the smaller boy’s love for his painting, ‘Just like mine towards dancing,’ his mind equipped, ‘but is it really like that? Do you really like dancing that much?’

“What’re you doing here?” a voice snapped him out of his thoughts again, and like a déjà vu, he saw Renjun’s eyes on him, scrutinizing his actions, perhaps anticipating his next one.

“Do you love painting?”

“With all my life,” was the quick reply.

And he knew he really meant it, with how his eyes were sparkling brighter, perhaps just as bright as the stars in the sky, and in a way he reminded him of a much younger him. Of the Jaemin from the past that danced just because he wanted to, not because people wanted him to. Of someone that he wished he could become again.

“Why do you love it so much?”

“Why do you love dancing?” That rendered him speechless, but the question did not have any bad intention with it; he could recognize it from the way the boy was looking at him, it was simply just a question.

“Maybe I don’t love dancing anymore,”

“That’s like saying I don’t love painting, Jaemin. Please don’t say something so foolish.”

His statement, for the second time that day, rendered him speechless again. Even though it was probably true, Jaemin felt sick by the fact that someone he just met could put it out something that he had a problem trying to understand so easily.

The following minutes was accompanied by silence; only the brush moving while Renjun continued to paint could be heard, and Jaemin was glad the smaller boy did not prod more about him. He was still quite surprised by how Renjun actually knew his name, but perhaps it was not even that surprising with how their academy was.

Watching the boy working on his painting was somehow calming. He could not really understand his painting, only being able to see a bird flying over a vast ocean with no ending in sight, but that, too was calming him in a way that he could not comprehend.

Perhaps this was the reason the boy loved painting so much – the way it could calm down the hearts of people who saw it, without even knowing the artists' true intentions of painting their arts, the way the painters' truest emotions were being displayed for those who could interpret it – everything about painting felt close to home; of how he felt about dancing.

This soon became a routine. Jaemin would check out the art room for Renjun’s presence, and if the slightly older boy was there, he would sit with him until the latter finished whatever project he was working on, and then went back to their respective dorms together.

It was a nice routine, in Jaemin’s perspective. It helped him to gather his thoughts together, which resulted to an improvement in his performance. Sometimes they would talk about the most idle things, and from that they got to know about each other a little bit more, but nothing serious was ever really mentioned.

“Why do you love painting so much?” Jaemin asked.

“You won't get over this, won't you?” the other asked back, amused.

“Not really, until you give me an answer. But well you shouldn't expect any less from me,” he answered, grinning and shrugging.

“Well, to make it simple, it gives me life as well as it makes life much more interesting to look forward to. And don't you think a Renjun without painting would be a much more boring Renjun?” he said, chuckling.

His statement was so simple, yet it reminded him to a memory that was almost lost in his mind.

“_Daddy, they looks so cool, aren't they?” a six years old Jaemin said, mesmerized as he watched some dance showcase that his father brought him to. His father smiled endearingly at him, patting his head while saying his agreement. That was the start on how Jaemin started to dedicated his life to dancing. It was as if that was the only thing the young Jaemin knew._

_Dancing itself made him felt as if he was a better person, and that without it, the younger him would not know what to do with his life. Little did the little Jaemin knew about the struggles and confusion that were going to come with it, that it would become his main some source of turmoil one day_.

Days became weeks, weeks became months, and Jaemin and Renjun’s relationship had blossomed into so much more than just being strangers, but not also past being close friends. They always met in the comfortable comfort of the art room, but that day Renjun decided to visit him in his practise room instead, watching him dancing after all the other occupants had left.

“You’re a really good dancer.” The statement startled Jaemin from his post-practise session, him still catching his breath and not noticing Renjun’s presence.

“Renjun!”

“Yes, yes it’s me. Stop looking like you just saw a ghost or something,” he simply said, strutting into the practise room.

“But I really mean it, you’re a really good dancer. The way you bring out your emotions…no wonder they call you the ‘star prodigy’.”

That brought Jaemin into reality, and suddenly all his pent out frustrations was brimming to its limit, causing him to lash out at Renjun. “No, I’m not! I’m not a star prodigy for God’s sake! That’s all bullshit! Just stop saying that like everyone else!” 

The only thing he could feel at that moment was his own overwhelming emotions, and the ringing in his ears saying he done messing with whatever thing they had directly at that moment.

“Jaemin! Why are you crying, oh god.” He could hear Renjun’s footsteps rushing to him, but everything was blurry, and he could not really see his surroundings anymore.

“Wait, crying? What?...” Suddenly he realized the tears streaming down his face, and the sobs that was audible, and just like that the dam was broken, and he just cried harder, letting it all out in the closed doors of the practice room, with Renjun in his company.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, take a deep breath. Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat. There, there,” Jaemin did as he was told, feeling himself calming down bit by bit.

“Now, do you want to talk to me about it? It’s okay if you don’t, but maybe I could help you if you do.” Renjun said softly, and Jaemin felt so embarrassed, so out of his normal self at the fact that he just cried in front of someone else. ‘But it’s Renjun, not just someone else,’ his mind supplied, and he took a deep breath before trying to find the right words, the ones that could let Renjun be able to understand his inner turmoil.

“It’s nothing…it’s stupid really, but I just, I’m not sure if I’m doing the right thing right now? Sure, I loved dancing, but I don’t know if I still love it, or if I’m doing it just for the sake of it, for the sake of not disappointing my parents. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing in my life right now. What if nothing I’m doing currently will matters later on, and it’s all a waste? That I’ve spent my entire life until now wasting it? And the fact that people always call me a prodigy…I hate it. Those people that act like I don’t practise as much as they do, I hate it. They don’t know anything, of the hours I spent alone trying to improve myself. I know it’s stupid, but it’s just so frustrating.”

“Hey don’t say that, it’s not stupid, never say it is ever again! Your feelings matter. You’re allowed to be worried, of the past, the present, the future, but don’t let it stop you. You don’t need to have everything figured out right now, it’s alright to make mistakes, there’s nothing wrong about it! So what if you make mistakes? That doesn’t make you a failure. There’s still another chance for you to make it better. You’re alive and that’s the most important thing, everything else; the worries, the self-doubts, the what ifs, they all comes after that. And like you said, people don’t know anything about you, so what they think shouldn’t matter.” Renjun said, softly but firmly, and perhaps that was the thing that Jaemin needed the most at that moment, for someone to say that it was alright, that he should not be bothered by certain things.

“I’m….thank you Renjun. That means a lot,” Jaemin whispered out, softly but in a way that he was sure Renjun would be able to hear.

“You’re welcome you baby. Now come on, I’m famished. Let’s go and find something to eat.” He could only chuckle at that, but in that moment, all was well again.

Meeting Renjun was also like meeting his younger self, and that, in a weird way ignited something in his heart, especially after his recent breakdown; the need to do things better, to practise better, dance better, but only for himself and nobody else.

It was as if the passion in him that had somehow faded, came back again, brighter than before. And all his doubts before, were cleared up, since now he realized again, that even though he was doing this for his parents, there was also part of him that was still doing this for himself, for the thrill of being able to show himself; the real him, with his emotions bare, to the world.

“Dancing and painting are so similar to each other, aren’t they?” he said one day, while listening to Renjun humming a random melody as he was working on yet another painting; of a man dancing. The background of the canvas was of orange and yellow, making the man somehow looking as if he was actually alive, and not just a painting.

“Why do you say so?”

“Well, we both put our emotions into them, baring them for the world to see, and that wasn’t something easy to do. And in a way, your paintbrush is dancing, just like how I do,” it was hard to voice out his thoughts, and he could only hope that Renjun would be able to understand them.

The other let out a small smile, something that Jaemin had grown to love more each day, loving how even the tiniest smile like this made Renjun looked even more beautiful, and the only thing he would think about was on how to make the other smiled more.

Meeting Renjun was something that Jaemin would forever be thankful for, for it was because of it that he could finally embrace his turmoil, that he was reminded again for his reason in life. Renjun, who always shone so brightly, the always-positive Renjun that would knock some sense into him whenever he started to rant about his thoughts; the bad ones, again and again, but would always support him in the things that he do.

But even the all-positive Renjun had his own bad days, where he would rip his own art pieces apart, feeling like they were not good enough; feeling like he was not good enough, and Jaemin would be there to reassure him that those were false. Because as much as Renjun was there for him during his bad days, he would also be there for the other, for Renjun was the sun, and Jaemin was the moon, and they would complement each other, helping each other to shine. And never in this life, would Jaemin, nor Renjun, left each other to fall apart by themselves, for in a way, they were each other’s soulmate, always striving to be the better them together.

Play. Step. Stop. Repeat.  
There was a reflection in the mirror, of a child who loved dancing more than anything else, trapped in an adult body. The child was smiling, mirroring Jaemin’s own content feeling, his absolute happiness.  
It was the same routine again, but this time, he would not trade it for anything else in the world.


End file.
